Darko's POV

Lyra and I finish our meals, and I realise Taylor and Bella aren't returning.

Whatever, it's fine. They probably have class or something. Totally didn't ditch me, or anything...

I sit back at my seat, dejected, and Lyra turns to me with an unexpected sad look on her face.

"You'll never guess who texted me."

I raise an eyebrow. "Markle?"

Lyra's eyebrows pinch together in disgust. She groans, shaking her head. "Yuck, no. Someone worse though. Equally as mean."

"Ah. Your dear mother?"

She turns back to her laptop, nodding. "Yup. Wanna read what she's said this time?"

"Sure."

She slides her laptop over to me and my eyes scan a wall of text. Paragraphs of misspelled words and constant over-use of emojis invade my eyes, looking almost like hieroglyphics, but the message is clear — Lyra's mother doesn't like something she's done. I've never seen a parent use curse words so strongly towards their child.

Lyra sighs as I try to read the texts. "It's about those campaign shirts I had made. Well, I told her that I wanted them and that I was paying for them and she was cool with that. Now she's playing dumb and reckons I'm charging her account, which is not true, but it then evolved into a big tirade about how I should drop the political shit to focus on a STEM career." She taps the screen, pointing to a message, "And, she said my slogan was shit! Ugh. I'm so sick of this. I hate my mum. I hate always being at fucking odds with her. Surely it's not worth all this trouble."

She slaps her screen down, the sound making a few nearby tables go silent for a few moments. She folds her arms on the table, and I rub her back as she sinks her head into them. Sigh.

Lyra and her mother do not have the best of relationships. Things used to be great — I remember Lyra telling me fond stories of the trips they used to go on together, like their three month stint in Japan a few years ago. Her mother adored her and had high hopes for her, like any mother would, but she wanted Lyra to become a doctor one day and Lyra wanted a different path for her life.

The last year of high school was the roughest time for Lyra. She told me she used to be very nerdy, doing all the extra curriculars that her mother told her to do like chess and volunteering at a hospital. She even picked out her clothes most of the time, and rarely let her go out and party. So, when she realised her high school had a debate team, something in her life had to budge to make room. Lyra just didn't anticipate how much she wanted to shed.

I guess that's what sparked her massive self-reinvention. Her mother hated how 'rebellious' she became. And it wasn't just from her mother, too. People ridiculed her all the time, saying that no 'black woman' would make it far in politics. Hell, Trent and Duncan are just more grown up versions of those high school douchebags.

Part of me thinks Lyra wants to win this seat on the student council just to prove herself. Sure, she's won debates and stuff like that, but she's never done anything as ambitious as this before. And, these messages (as well as Trent tearing up her poster like twenty minutes ago, and her now-ex not supporting her) aren't making it any easier.

"Screw her," I say with determination. Lyra turns her head to face me, a weak smile on her face. "You're gonna ace this campaign, with or without her support. You have Me, Taylor, and Bella backing you, so don't think for a second you're in this by yourself."

She sits up, her expression a little brighter. "Thank you, Darko. I guess with all these ass hats being like this... it's hard to stay positive. You're the best."

I felt my chest glow with warmth. "Anytime. And yes, I am the best."

Lyra and I share a small laugh, before I catch a glimpse of the time on my phone. Crap, I'm going to be late for class.

"Hey, I gotta jet off. See you around?"

Lyra nods. "Have fun in class!"

#

As I trudge my way to class, my mind drifts back to Taylor. I really do wonder why he left so abruptly, without even saying goodbye. Was he okay? Note to self, ask Bella what happened. Maybe he just needed some fresh air, and the timing of getting up was just off. I don't blame him, he did have a rough night last night. He also doesn't really know Nicole that well, and he can be one heck of an introvert sometimes. He might just not have had the social battery.

I know I sure didn't have the energy. Bah, whatever. I'll flick him or Bella a text later.

I get to class on time, and I find myself a seat. I can't focus on what the tutor is saying. My mind wanders. My hand draws little doodles in the corners of my book. I really, truly do wonder if Taylor's doing okay, mentally. Maybe he'll bring up last night with his therapist. I hope he says good things about me. I hope I did the right thing and comforted him the right way.

Even though all Iwanted to do was wrap him up in my arms and tell him that I've got him. Ugh.This whole closet thing really sucks ass.